


the one where gerard gives frank his coat

by forallthegodsdeparted



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Rain, Revenge Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 18:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13487634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forallthegodsdeparted/pseuds/forallthegodsdeparted
Summary: Inspired by that one pic of Frank and Gerard with take-out and a fan in a hotel lobby, where Frank is wearing Gerard's coat. There was gonna be sex, then both the characters and I got tired and decided to nap instead. Pointless fluff and confusion about veganism ensue.





	the one where gerard gives frank his coat

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: FAKE FAKE FAKE

It’s not that Frank doesn’t like the February rain—he’s got east coast blood, okay, he’s not gonna get pneumonia and die if he gets a little wet, no matter what Brian says—it’s just that he’s warmer and cozier right now than he’s been in weeks, he’s feeling absolutely sloth-like, and the patter against the hotel windows is lulling him into a doze. At least it would be, if his pillow wasn’t petulantly prodding him and bemoaning of hunger every two minutes.

“Frankie, come _on_ ,” Gerard whines, squirming around underneath him. Frank just snuggles his face harder into Gerard’s stomach, grinning at Gee’s frustrated little huffs, pulling the white hotel comforter tighter around his ears. Another hour without food won’t kill them. Like they’re gonna find anything for Frank to eat anyway on the streets of Chicago.

“ _Frank_ ,” Gerard repeats, tugging a little at his hair this time, and, ow.

“Five more minutes,” Frank mumbles into the fabric of Gee’s shirt. Frank’s eyes are shut but he doesn’t need to look to know Gerard’s rolling his.

“I haven’t eaten at all today. We’ve gotta get up in a couple hours to go play anyway.” Frank unearths his face to look at Gerard. He’s got a double chin from this angle, which maybe shouldn’t be hot but totally is.

“It’s so cold and wet outside. You’re so warm.” Frank makes his eyes big, pouts a little, because he loves Gerard so much it hurts and he feels like being fucking childish and obnoxious about it.

“That’s not fair,” Gerard grumbles, letting his head fall back on the bed and flinging his arms over his eyes. “Not fair being cute. I want food.”

“I can be cute if I want, you’re being a drama queen.” Frank shimmies up Gee’s body, dragging the blankets with him. He re-settles against Gerard’s chest, gently bites at his chin. They’re pressed together at the hip, both still in their sleep boxers, and Frank’s thinking about putting the semi Gee’s got going to use. Gerard maybe has the same idea, because he stirs a little under Frank, shifts his pelvis, half-opens his eyes to gaze at Frank under heavy lids. His hair’s a stupid mess of dyed black and bleach blond, pressed completely flat against his head on one side and sticking straight out on the other.

“Shit,” Frank says, “I am so fucking attracted to you.” Gee squints.

“Stop it. You’re trying to distract me.”

“Is it working?”

Gerard just groans, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“You wanna?” Frank murmurs, lips already ghosting down Gee’s neck.

“Frank, I’m _so hungry._ ” Frank pouts again, huffs out a sigh.

“ _Fine_ ,” he says emphatically, rolling off Gerard but landing right next to him, spooning him from the side. Gerard purses his lips, turns to face him.

“Short walk, ok? We’ll come right back and still have a while before we gotta leave again.”

“I’m gonna be cold.” Now Frank’s the one being petulant.

“You can wear my big coat,” Gerard reasons, pushing Frank’s bangs to one side.

“What will you wear?”

“I’m fine in a sweatshirt,” Gerard says bravely, like he’s offering Frank his jacket on the way home from prom so Frank doesn’t get chilly in his dress. Gerard rocks.

“You kind of rock,” Frank says, lifting his leg to pin Gerard’s hips under his thigh; the corners of Gee’s mouth tug up.

“I know, and you’re a delicate flower,” Gerard says, “Lucky for you you’ve got a big strong man who will offer you his— _ow_ , Frank!” He squeals, twisting away from where Frank’s pinching his sides. Frank cackles, clamping down hard harder with his leg to hold Gerard in place, and tickles him.

“Who’s delicate now?” Frank crows over Gee’s thrashing and howling underneath him, fingers skating over his neck, stomach, and armpits.

“Okay, okay! Uncle!” Gerard squeaks, tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry! Sorry for insulting your fucking masculinity, Jesus,” he gasps. Frank lets up with a giggle, taking his leg back to free Gerard, who rolls away and onto his stomach, a safe distance from Frank. His shirt is riding up so that the pudge around his belly and hips pokes out, his boxers are all bunched around the tops of his thighs, and his face is pink from laughing. Frank’s insides do a somersault.

“What’re you looking at?” Gerard says between pants, returning Frank’s gaze with an equally piercing stare.

“Just you,” he replies mildly, offering a soft smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Come on, let’s get dressed and find some food.”

 

The rain is blowing sideways by the time they make it downstairs and through the lobby, which makes it okay that they’re both wearing enough layers to avoid being recognized by strangers. Frank’s in Gerard’s heavy coat with the fur collar, a hat and scarf, and sunglasses (“It’s raining.” “I don’t wanna have to see people.” “You’re not gonna be able to see _anything_.” “Even better.”) and Gee’s buried in a hoodie, a smaller jacket, two scarves and a hat, leaving only a little strip of his face uncovered. They pause at the front door; Gerard eyes him.

“This was a bad idea,” Gee says, apprehension muffled under all his layers, “You’re gonna get fuckin’ bronchitis or something.”

“This was _your_ idea,” Frank points out, shouldering him toward the automatic sliding doors, “And I don’t get bronchitis every time I go outside, Jesus, why does everyone think that?” They sort of fall over each other and land outside in the freezing, slanted rain. Even through his hat and scarf Frank feels like he’s being pelted with little pinpricks of ice. He turns to Gerard, grinning.

“So, where to, captain?”

“You gotta stop calling me that,” Gerard mutters, squinting at their surroundings. The headlights moving through the street are bright and neon in the gloom, but the sidewalk is (shockingly) pretty much empty. The weather is _really_ bad, just fucking miserable, even by Jersey standards. “Uhh, I dunno, there’s probably something on the next block. If there’s not we’ll just go back and order room service.”

“Still don’t know why we didn’t do that first,” Frank grumbles. He looks around, decides on the direction that puts the rain at his back instead of his face, and trudges forward.

“’Cause then we have to explain to room service why you’re in my bed,” Gerard sighs tiredly as he hurries to catch up, like this is an old argument. (It is—Gerard’s always been weird about people finding Frank in his hotel room, even though Frank has told him, like, at least a thousand times that there’s a long list of reasons people might assume he’s in Gee’s room, and “sleeping together” is probably close to the bottom.) Frank drops it. They forge ahead in silence, listening to the street noises and the dull roar of the storm, water splashing under their soaked feet.

Before Frank can totally lose all feeling in his toes, Gerard says, “Here, let’s just go here,” and he doesn’t even look before turning and following him into—Frank blinks around, still not willing to take his sunglasses off, and it’s bright in here, anyway—some corner deli. Gerard shrugs at him and he just replies, “Yeah, okay.” It’s small, just a counter with a glass case of food and a row of tables against the wall. Frank kind of doesn’t think they’re going to have anything he can eat here, but he wasn’t that hungry to begin with, and hell if he’s going to walk around in the fucking sleet for another fifteen minutes in search of a veggie burger. Gerard removes one of his scarves, approaches the short, dark-haired, burly man behind the counter and smiles winningly.

“Hey,” he says, “Can I get, uh,” he glances upward at the menu, “an Italian sub, and, um...” he looks harder, like he can will a vegan option into existence. Frank snorts. “You don’t have anything, like, without meat or dairy, do you?” The guy stares at Gerard like he just asked him to do a cartwheel.   

“No meat?” the guy repeats.

“Or dairy.”

“...We have a fish sandwich.” Gerard looks bewildered; Frank rolls his eyes and steps forward.

“Nah, never mind,” Frank cuts in, before the guy can start asking if fish counts as meat. “We’ll just take an order of fries with that. To go, please.” Gerard’s face is disapproving. Whatever, Frank read somewhere that you can get all the nutrients you need from a diet of potatoes and milk alone. So he’s got, like, half of that down. The guy rings them up and Gerard pays, and Frank whispers, “At least I’m a cheap date,” which makes Gerard giggle, so the trip wasn’t a complete waste of time.

They make their way back with the rain in their face; it’s coming down so hard now that Frank’s definitely getting drenched even through Gerard’s parka. The temperature’s got to be under 40. Frank’s just thinking about how if he didn’t really, _really_ like Gerard he’d probably kill him for suggesting this fucking death mission when they get back to the Hyatt they’re parked at for the weekend. They manage to slog inside without bringing a river in behind them, and they only get stopped once for a photo on their way to the elevators.

Gerard can’t hide how hard he’s shivering by the time they get upstairs to their room, and the instant Frank’s shut the door behind them he takes the bag of food from Gerard, sets it on the counter, and starts stripping Gee’s jacket and sweatshirt off him onto the floor.

“ _Frank_ ,” Gerard protests through chattering teeth, but doesn’t stop Frank from pulling his wet shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

“So dumb,” mutters Frank, shrugging out of Gerard’s coat and his own shirt before going to work on Gerard’s belt buckle. “Now who’s gonna get bronchitis?”

“Uh, not me,” Gerard quips, grabbing onto Frank’s shoulders to steady himself as he steps out of his jeans and boxers. “’Cause I have this thing called an immune system?”

“Whatever,” Frank says, stripping himself the rest of the way and kicking all their clothes into a soggy pile in the entrance way. He grabs the bag of food and shoves Gerard toward the bed where they bury themselves fully naked under the covers. Gerard flips on the television and they watch some stupid MTV dating show while Gerard tears into his sandwich and Frank picks at the mound of ketchup-smothered fries. Between the heavy down comforter and Gerard’s body heat, Frank’s finally starting to feel like he’s returning to a normal temperature by the time they’re done eating. He snuggles further into Gerard’s side, licking the rest of the ketchup off his fingers before wrapping his arms around his middle. Gerard’s soft, but also, like, really solid in a way that makes Frank feel sort of strong and small at the same time. Or something. He bites softly at the fleshy part of Gerard’s hip. Gee looks down at him.

“Stop it,” he says, squirming a little and looking uncomfortable.

“Stop what?” Frank says innocently.

“Biting my fat,” Gerard rolls his eyes.

“But I like it,” Frank reasons. Gerard frowns at that. “Okay, okay, sorry,” Frank concedes, scooting up to nuzzle in the hollow between Gerard’s neck and collar bone instead. He _does_ like it. He likes it a fucking lot. He also knows Gee somehow still doesn’t believe him. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, ‘kay?” Gerard sort of grumbles in response, putting an arm around Frank and tugging him closer anyway as he leans back into the pillows, dragging Frank with him. Frank hitches up his leg to lay across Gee’s thighs, where it brushes his soft cock, and he closes his eyes. 

“Feel warmer now,” Gerard mumbles, combing his fingers through the longer hair on the top of Frank’s head.  

“’m too,” Frank mumbles into his shoulder, happy, sleepy, and a little horny now that he’s reattached to his personal space heater. The rain is a steady drone against the large window and it’s getting dark in the hotel room. “Kinda wanna blow you.”

“Mmm,” Gerard agrees, without much conviction.

“Kinda wanna nap too,” Frank offers, and he feels Gee’s neck muscles shift into a smile.

“Me too.” Frank grins and squirms around ‘til he’s in a more comfortable position, and Gee’s already breathing slower and deeper, chest rising and falling steadily under Frank’s arm.

“Someone’s gonna come wake us up for soundcheck and you’re gonna have to explain why I’m in your bed,” Frank teases once they’re settled.

“Whatever. Maybe I will,” Gerard murmurs, laying a kiss on the top of Frank’s head. A threat.  Frank grins harder.

"See you in a couple hours," Frank says, and then they fall silent, listening to the torrents of rain outside, squeezing each other gently now and then until they fall asleep.

 

 


End file.
